Betray
by Diary
Summary: Warning: Heed the rating. "Since Lady Jane has sent you to me, I've given you two demonstrations," is the reply. "Tell me, why is this so important? A prince child, of the king's seed, that you'd risk everything?" Complete. Edited slightly.


Disclaimer: I do not own The Tudors or The Booth at the End.

Author's Notes: The Booth at the End is a series about a man who people come to when they want something; he gives them a task they must do in order to receive what they want.

…

He has to be gentle.

Henry is forever talking about this one's delicate grace, her sweetness and vulnerability.

If he leaves any signs, a bruise, a mark, anything, Henry will know someone has been with his new bride.

Charles sighs, closing his eyes. He's been gentle before, was the first time he ever laid with a woman, has been a few times since. "Say something," he orders.

He's never had much use for talking during the act, but sleeping with his king's wife- How's he supposed to rise to the occasion?

"It's all well," Mistress Seymour –not Queen Jane, no- says, softly, startling him as her slightly roughened hand touches his face.

She's from the country, he remembers, the family only moderately wealthy. At least, until recently, that is. Of course, she'd wear gloves, but darning laundry, working with linens, weaving, all those short of things, they produce a tougher skin.

"You need never fear the loss of his majesty's love," she continues, only her hand touching his face. "He considers you his truest friend."

Closing his eyes, he takes himself in hand and guides himself in. He's reckless and a fool, he'll gladly admit, but he's not stupid. If Henry were to find out, and there's no guarantee he won't, he'd lose his life, his property, everything. His wife and children would likely suffer. There'd be no forgiveness, no residual love.

"He told me an amusing story," she continues, her gentle voice grating. "Of when he was ten; you and he snuck out and went fishing, all by yourselves."

"Yes," he answers, remembering. Carefully, he thrusts, knowing he needs to finish this.

"Prince Arthur tried to protect the two of you, but the king was most angry. You received a whipping."

"I did," he answers, remembering trying not to cry, trying to keep the horrible pain from showing on his face. Afterwards, Harry had rubbed a stinging layer of something resembling clay over the marks; he'd fallen asleep on his stomach, an arm slung over Henry's leg. In the morning, he'd wakened to find Henry had fallen asleep sitting up, his back against the headboard, the book he'd been reading having fallen to the floor.

"It'll be soon," he warns, feeling himself close to completion.

"Good," she answers.

Henry used to love reading; that's why he became so attached to More. Whenever an ambassador or visiting family member would come, they knew to bring a book for the younger of the princes. Charles used to tease him, and in response, Henry would challenge him to wrestling, tennis, or something. Never mind that he used to lose more times than he won, he'd still insist on trying to better Charles.

Finished, he sighs and pulls out, rolling away from her.

He hears her sitting up, and then, to his surprise, feels her take his hand. There's a soft press of lips against it. "Whenever you feel guilty, you need only look at the happiness which his majesty will express. You've done a selfless deed, your grace."

Shaking his head, he pulls his codpiece on and adjusts his trousers. "My lady," he answers, quietly, going through the hidden door.

…

Entering the booth, Charles sits down. "It's done."

The man nods, making a note. "How was it?"

"It's done."

"How do you feel?"

Scoffing, he leans back. "I just slept with my closest friend's new bride. Worse, I just committed treason and slept with my sovereign lord's wife. How do you think I feel?"

"I wouldn't know," the man answers, mildly. "Was it difficult?"

"Henry doesn't want to have coronation for her just yet," Charles answers, signalling a serving girl to bring him a cup. "After the wedding night, however, it was easy enough to convince him she should spend a week in the tower since she hadn't done so before the wedding as past queens have. She requested her ladies minister to the prisoners while she prayed in solitude. There's a hidden door to her chambers. I slipped in and out, unseen."

The serving girl appears. Once she's gone and he's drank some of his ale, he says, "And so, Henry will get his boy? It'll be of his flesh-and-blood?"

"That is the deal," the man answers. "In nine months, Queen Jane will deliver of a healthy boy. The boy will outlive his father and be appointed as King."

"I must be mad," Charles notes, heavily, leaning back. "How am I to know all of this is true?"

"Since Lady Jane has sent you to me, I've given you two demonstrations," is the reply. "Tell me, why is this so important? A prince child, of the king's seed, that you'd risk everything?"

"Because, it's the only way to make him happy," Charles answers. "He's always wanted a legitimate son, but before, he could be happy without one, especially when Henry Fitzroy was alive and well. Now, he's obsessed. He'll kill himself and who knows how many others in his attempt."

"So, you've given him what he most wants. Why are you so unhappy?"

Unable to stop himself, Charles laughs. When he gets hold of himself, he glares at the people stealing glances. "I've never- I had a childhood friend, William; he wore his heart on his sleeve. We were fifteen, and there was this musician. He loved music, William did. Anyway, I don't think anyone else noticed, but I know he was enamoured. Henry was still a virgin, he didn't have much cause, but we all teased William about his virginity. There was a plain-looking girl who sang like an angel, and he decided he'd bed her. She would have been willing, and I couldn't let him do that; he soon walked in on her and I in bed. Other than that one time, and, I suppose, now, I've never competed against my friends for women. I've never slept with their sweethearts or wives."

"What happened with your friend, William?"

"He and the musician became close until the musician married and accepted a job at a university. William eventually became very close to a woman named Anne, though, I don't think they were ever lovers; then, he fell in love with another court musician. They seemed to be happy together in the short time they had before William died."

"I suppose that concludes our business, your grace."

Nodding, Charles stands up to leave, only to change his mind and sit back down. "Why this task? I've heard your tasks rarely make sense. A person has a selfless wish, and they're given a horrendous task. A person has a simple desire, and they're given a bizarre task. Often, the ones with evil wishes never manage to complete the task given."

"I don't know," the man answers as he closes his book. "I don't make the tasks. I simply tell people what they must do in exchange for what they want. A person can always refuse or change their mind about what they want."

"Right," Charles says, a sudden sinking feeling in his stomach. "Well, this will make Henry happy. No matter happens, assuming my actions and the Queen's aren't discovered, this boy will make everything right in his life."


End file.
